


Luck of the Draw

by Firekitten



Category: RWBY
Genre: Gen, M/M, Never hurt me and then leave me alone with a keyboard, Qrow & Clover are way more established here then in show, V7C12 Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-26
Updated: 2020-01-26
Packaged: 2021-02-25 04:27:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22426189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Firekitten/pseuds/Firekitten
Summary: [Spoilers for V7C12] In the aftermath of the events at Atlas, Qrow is left grieving. Lost in his own mind, he’s not sure he’ll ever recover. Taiyang just does what he can to help.
Relationships: Qrow Branwen/Clover Ebi
Comments: 26
Kudos: 105





	Luck of the Draw

**Author's Note:**

> Luck of the Draw - an outcome based on chance that one doesn’t have any control over

“Qrow. Qrow.” Clover was calling him.

His voice tugged at Qrow as surely as Kingfisher’s line. Compelled by a panic he didn’t fully understand, he knew he had to follow it. If he didn’t Clover would be… he would be…

Snow crunched under his feet like bones, came away wet like blood. The blizzard around him was heavy and white, howling in his ears. His chest was constricted, by cold, by pain.

“-Row. …Qr-” No! Clover’s voice was fading.

He ran. He ran with everything he had. Opened his mouth to scream, but his frozen lungs wouldn’t give him the air.

No matter what, he couldn’t let it disappear. He knew if he did, Clover’d be lost.

And Qrow would be lost with it.

Something came into view. Gave him hope. The plane, broken, aflame. A light in all his blindness. Clover was here. He was here!

He hurried around the wreckage, only for his foot to catch on a corner of debris half-hidden in the snow. He fell, no one to catch him this time-

-And came awake with a jerk and a gasp. 

He stared up at the ceiling he didn’t immediately recognize, wooden slates that implied an almost country-like aesthetic. A hand reached for him. He flinched but couldn’t stop its gentle touch on his forehead.

“You’ve got quite a fever, Qrow.” Tai’s voice was a low but familiar rumble. He’d used to find so much comfort in such a simple thing.

But as it all came rushing back, he didn’t know if he could ever find that peace of mind again.

After Atlas, after _everything_ , they had retreated for recovery. There was nowhere else to go but home. He could hear various noises of activity throughout the house. Clanging from the kitchen, stomps on the stairs, a door shutting somewhere. It felt distant though, disconnected like he’d become, though he couldn’t remember when. Only vaguely did he remember parts of the plane trip. Snapshots of scenery as they flew over Vale. Yang desperately asking him to speak. Ruby checking in on him.

Remembered with more crystal-clear clarity than he wished to how Tai’s face twisted in sorrow at the very sight of him. But even as his brother called his name, over and over, Qrow could not find his voice.

He felt like he was lost in a permanent state of inebriation without ever touching a drink. The days were passing in a blur. How many had there been now? Two? Three? Seven? He felt lost to time, out of control. He was present now, but would he be in an hour? He didn’t know, he didn’t know.

He wanted to be scared of it, but everything hurt so much every time he came awake, that all he wished was to retreat back into nothingness.

At the moment, Tai didn’t seem so inclined to allow that. “Come on now. I brought some medicine.” The bed dipped with his weight, an arm winding around his shoulders, pulling him up. The room around him seemed to spin into lucidity, until Qrow could pick out the knickknacks and photos that weren’t his. The desk with papers waiting for grading piled atop it. He was in Tai’s room.

He accepted the glass and the pills as they were handed to him, swallowed them down on instinct and tried to hand the mostly full glass back to the other.

Tai pushed it back, his voice still holding that gentle tenor. “I’d really like it if you drank more.”

Reluctantly Qrow held it under his chin, staring down at the water as it rippled in his shaky grasp. Why did… this feel like they’d done this before?

As he took a weak sip, it came to him.

So many years ago, almost untouchable in their length behind him, there was a time they’d been reversed. When it was Tai in this bed, on his worst days, unwilling to move, unwilling to speak. Remembered the days he’d spent trying to take care of him as his brother grieved a lost love with such ferocity the world around him failed to matter. And what had Qrow eventually done?

The glass slipped from his hand.

Tai caught it, droplets spilling onto the blankets. Set it aside, out of view.

He looked up at Tai, wordless.

He remembered it. Remembered how a day came where he’d let his frustration rule him. How he’d screamed at the blond to get up, that he couldn’t waste away wallowing in grief. Qrow had thought he knew this pain. Had eventually grown to feel his friend’s mourning was unwarranted. How could he not be able to stand up, when the rest of his family was moving on?

Now. Now he knew he hadn’t understood even a _fraction_ of how much it hurt. To love and to lose. How it injured the soul until every fiber of his being felt like it was ripping apart.

His vision blurred. What a terrible, awful person he was. How did he deserve this family?

…How did he fool himself enough to think Clover, sweet, wonderful Clover, ever deserved someone as cruel as him?

“Qrow?” Tai sounded alarmed.

Oh, he was crying.

“I’m sorry.” He spoke for the first time in days, voice rasped from disuse. Hung his head as a sob broke past his lips. “I’m sorry.”

Tai’s arms were around him immediately. “Hey, hey, it’s okay. It’s just some water.” He joked feebly.

Qrow shook his head. Tried to pull away, but the other held fast. Gave up and melded into the embrace as he choked on his own tears. Clung to him like he was the only lifeline he had left.

Another whisper cracked from his heart, “It hurts. I want it to stop.”

“I know.” Tai murmured, tucking him in closer. Squeezed him tightly as if trying to wring out all the pain himself. “It’s okay, I’m here. Yang and Ruby are here. We got you.”

“But he’s **_not_.** And it’s all because of me. His aura broke because of me.” He carried on, hysterically. “It’s my fault. It’s _always_ my fault.”

He felt Tai’s chest swell in a heavy sigh, breathing the way Clover couldn’t. Remembered the stark red blood. The grotesque way his sword punctured through his torso. The-

Fingers threaded through his hair, yanking just enough to pull him out of his sickening thoughts. “I know you can’t believe me right now, but it wasn’t your fault Qrow.”

“You weren’t there. You don’t know. Y-You didn’t hear, how he-” His stomach twisted. He couldn’t go on. Clover’s haunting words of wanting to trust in him, the painful desperation tinged in every syllable just moments before the end, were his burden to bear.

Tai pulled back, his arms holding onto his shoulders and, when he refused to look up, ducked down enough so they could see eye-to-eye. “But I know _you_. I know the Qrow Branwen who would rather force himself to be alone then let any hurt befall those he cares about. The Qrow that would take the most rigorous and thankless missions to protect a world he’s felt rejected him.” He reached up, rubbing away some of his tears with his thumb. “The you that loved so deeply that your heart broke over it.”

Qrow’s lips trembled, barely containing another sob.

Tai’s gaze remained soft and soulful. “So I know, without a doubt in my mind, that you would **_never_** intentionally hurt someone you allowed that close to you.”

He wanted to believe it. Wanted to hold onto that possibility that among all the bad, there was still something good about himself he could hold onto. But then he thought of Clover, gasping his final breaths in the bloody snow, and any hope he may have had flew out the window faster than his own wings ever could.

Fresh tears tracked down his face. “You’re wrong.”

“I’m not.” Tai declared. “But I’ll keep telling you until you remember it too.”

The argument tethered on the tip of his tongue, but he didn’t have the strength to break it free. Instead, he just looked away.

“Qrow?” Tai asked as the minutes passed in silence. When he didn’t raise to answer, there was a sigh, “Okay. It’s okay. You did good.” The bed moved as he stood. “I’ll leave the water. Try to finish it, okay?”

Qrow felt a kiss on the top of his head, a gesture his friend most often reserved for his daughters.

Said, just before he headed for the door, “Hang in there, brother. It’s going to be okay.”

He wanted to believe him. By the Gods, did he want to believe him.

But as he was left alone, just as it always should have been, all Qrow could do was curl up into himself and let the hurt take him.

**Author's Note:**

> ...To be fair (game), the show broke my heart first.


End file.
